


The Failed and the Future

by Lumelle



Series: When Life Gives You Reality Warpers [1]
Category: Marvel 616, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baby Mutants, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Wanda about to give birth to her long-awaited twins, Erik is torn by his fears. Charles tries to calm him down, but Erik can't have peace until he sees little Thomas and William for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Failed and the Future

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet is basically setting the background for another fic I'm working on to counteract all the uncertainty and loss of home and family I'm putting my characters through in [Some Assembly Required](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1064542). So, hopefully, there'll be more.
> 
> This ficlet/verse is basically a mash-up of First Class, 616 comic verse, and Marvel Cinematic Universe, as well as an utter AU for all three. All the kids get to have loving families, and all the adults get to be with their loved ones, and the villains get what's coming to them but Erik isn't one.
> 
> Nevertheless, this story **contains mentions of past character deaths** , including **loss of a child**. Please read accordingly.

"Do stop pacing, Erik. You are only going to wear yourself out."

He scoffed, not even glancing at Charles. "If this goes on long enough that I'm worn out from mere walking, something's definitely wrong."

"Oh, not necessarily. From what little I have heard, giving birth can be quite the ordeal, especially in the matter of first children. Of course, you have more experience with this than I do, but I dare also claim I am taking the more rational approach here."

"Yes, because my previous experiences with this have ended so very well." Magda. His beautiful Magda.

"Erik." There was the smallest touch of Erik's mind to his, light as a feather at the very edge of his consciousness, trying to soothe his wrought nerves. "Erik, she will be fine. They all will be fine."

"I thought that the last time, too." And he'd been so very wrong.

"Don't say that, Erik. You know that doesn't mean anything." Charles shook his head. "Magda did not die in child bed, and neither will Wanda."

"No. Magda died because I failed her." Just like he kept failing everyone he truly cared about.

"Her death was the result of a most unfortunate combination of circumstances. Blaming yourself will accomplish nothing, as you should know by now. You have done enough of it over the years."

"Whether it was my fault or not doesn't matter, though." The only thing that mattered, the only thing that could matter right now, was that he wouldn't lose his youngest child as well.

"Erik, come here." As he turned to look at Charles, he found himself at the receiving end of a level stare. "You heard me."

"Charles?" Nevertheless, he stopped in his pacing, pausing for a second before walking closer to where Charles was seated.

"Here." It was almost laughable, how easily the lightest touch of Charles's hand on his shoulder brought him down, gently guiding him to kneel in front of the wheelchair, his hands coming to rest on Charles's knees. "You've been pacing enough for a while."

"I've got to do something, though," he said, his voice barely more than a murmur. Nevertheless, he found himself unable to resist the temptation of leaning his head toward Charles's touch as he felt nimble hands combing through his hair. "I can't just sit down and wait."

"I'm afraid that is all we can do in this matter, dearest." For a moment, Charles's fingers danced over his face, guiding his eyes to close before drawing small circles on his temples, coaxing him to let go of the hint of a headache that had been threatening him. Of course. Charles always knew when he was too stressed.

"It makes me feel useless, though." Helpless, which he would never say aloud, but then he knew he wouldn't need to, as Charles knew it either way.

"I know. However, I promise you Wanda has the best help she could have. They have experts of both the magical and medical persuasion to make sure both she and the children are fine, and she has her husband by her side. Everything will be fine."

"And if it isn't?" He didn't like doing this, didn't like voicing the fears he could scarcely admit to having, but he'd rather let them fall out than have Charles pick them out of his stormy surface thoughts one by one and address them in that annoyingly calm, rational manner of his. "What if something goes wrong, and Wanda is hurt? What if this drags on for too long and she runs out of strength? What if there is something wrong with the children?"

"Wrong how?" Charles's voice was soft, so close to him now, his head doubtlessly bent over Erik's own. "We know they are physically healthy in every way it is possible to quantify before we actually see them. Or do you perhaps worry they will be like Kurt?"

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with Kurt." He couldn't hold back the fierce tone of his voice, even though he knew Charles agreed with him with his whole heart. They had heard enough dissent since the first time the doctor had been able to make out some abnormalities in the form of the child, still safe and sound in the womb. There was nothing wrong with little Kurt, and nothing could ever convince him otherwise.

"I know, Erik. And I know you didn't mean it like that, you never would. However, because I know you don't mean that, I have to wonder what it is that you worry about."

"…What if it didn't work?" And this, this was something he had been worried about the whole time, had worried but never dared to voice. The last thing he had wanted to do was cast any clouds over Wanda's happiness, any doubt on the happiness she'd had to wait far too long a time for. "What if they're not actual children, just… shells?"

"Why would that happen?" Charles's voice was soft, gentle, just a thread over mere thought. "They are alive. We know that."

"I know. However, I also heard all the doubts beforehand." He closed his eyes even tighter, not wanting to face Charles's deep blue eyes now, not sure he could. "That magic cannot create souls."

"Erik, look at me." As he did not immediately do as he was told, there was a gentle nudge at the edge of his mind. As he finally opened his eyes, reluctant at first, he found Charles smiling at him. "There is something I would like to share with you."

"Share with me?" He raised his eyebrows in question. Damn Charles and his tendency never to give any straight answers. "And what would that be?"

"This." And then a whole new set of sensations filled his mind, chasing away his doubts and fears to make way for the new thoughts.

It wasn't words, not a message, but something more reminiscent of Charles's light soothing touches. There was warmth and light and shadow all entwined, sounds he could not decipher but found soothing nevertheless. A steady rhythm kept repeating at the back of his mind, loud yet comforting. Right beside him he could feel the presence of something else, something that wasn't as constant and unmoving as the warmth around him, something that moved and nudged and touched him, but that something was right nevertheless. It belonged there with him, had been there before, just like the warmth and the steady sound had.

"That," Charles said in that same near-whisper, "is what one of them was thinking yesterday as we visited."

"Thinking?" He somehow managed to hold himself back from gripping Charles's knees too tight. "They have thoughts?"

"Nothing complicated yet, as you noticed, but they are definitely aware of their surroundings on what level they are capable of." Charles smiled, a hand sliding down to the side of his face, warm against his skin. "No empty shells, my love. Just two beautiful, brilliant children who are going to join us very soon."

"Promise?" Because if Charles promised, if he truly believed this with all his might, then Erik might be able to do that as well.

"I promise." There was a firmness in Charles's voice, one that Erik knew after so many years to mean that he didn't have the faintest shadow of doubt in his mind. It was the same voice that kept telling him it wasn't his fault that Charles couldn't walk, the voice that reminded him he had so much to offer to the world whenever his resolve wavered. "I know you can't see it with your own eyes, not yet, but I promise you they are perfectly healthy, lively little babies. And right now they are in a hurry to join us out here."

"Right." Erik paused. "Can I get back to my pacing now?" Because even if his worries had been alleviated somewhat, nothing could take away his feelings of frustration and helplessness at not being able to aid his daughter.

"If you must." Charles sighed and shook his head, letting his hands slip away from Erik's hair. "Just do try not to wear out the floor, will you?"

"I make no promises if this goes on much longer." However, he did take a moment to touch his lips to Charles's in a light kiss before standing up and resuming his pacing.

Despite Charles's reassurances, it was another good while before they received any update. This update arrived in the form of Pietro, running into the room with a frantic expression on his face, speaking faster than Erik could make any sense of.

"Pietro, do calm down," Charles cut in just as Erik was teetering towards the edge of panic, certain that this distress could only be caused by something terrible that had happened to Wanda or the babies or both. "What is it?"

"Wanda had the twins." The words were still fast, only barely comprehensible, but at least they were not entirely impossible to decipher. "Two healthy boys, no weird colors or appendages. You get to see them once everyone's clean and decent."

Erik let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "And how are they?"

"Everyone's fine. Well, except that Wanda's exhausted, and she kinda blew up a couple of things in the process but nobody was hit by the shrapnel so that's fine."

"Sounds like an exciting time." And only Charles could ever say that with a straight face. "Do let us know when it's all right for us to see the children."

"Will do." And without another comment, Pietro was gone again, doubtlessly to let other friends and relatives know.

Even with his worst fears thus addressed, Erik couldn't help but continue pacing as they waited. Charles didn't even try to contain him anymore, merely watching him with the sort of infuriating calmness only he seemed to be capable of. Erik took some inner satisfaction from the fact that even his perfect calm wavered when Doctor Strange finally deigned to appear and inform them Wanda was ready for them to visit.

Wanda looked exhausted as they went in, yet her expression was full of happiness. Vision was sitting at the edge of her bed, yet he only gained a passing glance and a nod from Erik; his attention was immediately drawn to the two small figures in Wanda's arms, swaddled in soft white blankets with tiny blue hats on their heads.

"I see they finally decided to join us." Erik stepped closer, looking closer at the babies. Both were discolored in the way of newborn babies, eyes closed tightly as they slumbered close to their mother. "Do they have names yet?"

"Oh, yes." Wanda gave them a tired smile. "The older one is Thomas Erik," she nodded at one of the children, "and the younger is William Charles."

"We are deeply honored." Charles reached out to brush his hand over one hat-covered head. "And how do you tell them apart?"

"That will be easy." Vision smiled even as he leaned down to kiss Wanda's forehead. "Far as we can tell, they are identical… except William has dark hair and Thomas's is nearly white."

"I did wonder if that would repeat." And he could only imagine how much amusement Pietro would get out of it. "And they are both well." He could not bear to frame that as a question.

"So the doctors both assure us." Wanda's smile turned just a bit brighter, if that were even possible. "It worked, Papa. I have my children now."

"Indeed you do." And with that fact came an immense relief, flooding every part of his heart, strong enough that there was no way Charles could avoid picking up on it. Not that he particularly minded. It could not have come as a surprise.

He had lost one child, once, helpless to save her as the fear and wrath of ignorant humans had extinguished her tiny flame before it had ever truly taken fire. He had failed her, and yet life had seen it fit to reward him with two more, two brilliant, beautiful children who had grown up to be every bit as strong and wonderful as he knew Anya would have if she'd been given the chance.

And now here was Wanda, his beautiful Wanda who looked so much like her mother, with two little ones of her own in her arms. Two little lives, so full of potential and little else, promises of great things and a bright future not only to mutantkind, but to the whole world around them.

One of the twins — Thomas, or so he thought — had one hand peeking out from the blankets. As Erik reached a careful fingertip to touch it, tiny fingers immediately latched on, not letting go.

"Grow big and strong and happy, little ones," he murmured, quiet words in German that none of the others quite understood, though he was sure the general gist was clear — to Vision, certainly, with his computer brain and infinite vocabulary. "Wherever you choose to go, I will make sure you are safe."

He owed them that much, surely. He owed them and Magda and his own twins and Anya, his beautiful little Anya, owed them the chance to grow up happy and safe like none of those who came before them.

There was a soft touch to his mind, a wordless reminder that Charles was there, and he knew he wouldn't face that challenge alone.


End file.
